


By A Single Thread

by Basmathgirl



Series: From July to AUgust [8]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternative Universe - Professional Rivals, Alternative Universe - Single Parents, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26025343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: Ten/Donna AU - they both work in the same place and are single parents, so shouldn’t they be more friendly towards each other?[The ratings change is due to the DVDs extras, so if you are avoiding any hint of smut, ignore the last two chapters]
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Donna Noble
Series: From July to AUgust [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820155
Comments: 83
Kudos: 49
Collections: AUgust 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **AUgust prompts:** single parents AU, professional rivals AU  
>  **Disclaimer:** I’ll never be them, but I know what this feels like.  
>  **A/N:** here's another AU I wrote earlier.  
>  **A/N2:** as you can see, I’ve left myself room to continue this one.

  
artwork by [dreamerbee](https://dreamerbee.tumblr.com/post/629285165904150528/hey-tumblr-long-time-no-draw-these-two-but)

As she walked through the main foyer of the large, modern office block she worked in, the display behind the receptionists’ desk caught her eye. She groaned in dismay. 

Featured on the wall, underneath the photos of the upper echelons of management, was the smug photo of one John Smith, PA to the Director of Design. How on earth had he managed that?

Oooh, she hated him! What with his sticky up hair, stupid glasses, wonky nose, and beaming arrogant smile, messing up her life. Who did he think he was, muscling in on her patch? If it wasn’t for her daughter Jenny, she’d have told him where to get off ages ago. But she had to think of Jenny’s wellbeing. And John’s son, whatever his name was. 

She sighed. Being both single parents should have endeared him to her, but all he did was ruffle her feathers. Perhaps she could tolerate him a bit more if he wasn’t in competition with her to be PA to the CEO? Her current position was PA to the Director of Financial Services, a job that she loved, but the CEO’s PA was about to retire, leaving a very lucrative position for them to compete for. In fact, the CEO had called them both into his office and explained that so far he couldn’t decide between the two of them for his PA’s replacement; could they possibly sort it out amongst themselves.

What an idiot, she’d thought. CEOs have to make difficult decisions all the time so it should have been easy for him. Either that or his current PA had nixed his decision. Who knew?

If she got that pay rise, she’d be able to afford some decent accommodation and not the pokey flat she lived in. Somewhere with a garden or overlooking some greenery. Anywhere would be better than her current home. Well, almost. There was still the possibility of returning to look after her widowed mother…

Yes, in theory that sounded quite nice and selfless; but whoever met the spitting viper that was Sylvia Noble instantly understood why she wasn’t keen to return to the family home. If it had been her dad or her Gramps, she would not have even given it a thought and packed immediately. But dealing with Sylvia Noble required a different strength of character, shall we say?

Anyway, since the announcement of the soon to be available PA position, Donna and John had been doing their best to push themselves forward. They were both highly competent at their job, therefore, it had been fifty-fifty up until this point. But if John was getting his greasy mug plastered on the company wall then that suggested he was in the lead, and she couldn’t have that. Oh no. 

All these thoughts rattled around her head as the lift took her up to the floor where she worked. It wouldn’t do, she reminded herself. Look professional, act sunny and adaptable, and crush that John Smith into the carpet like the bug he was!

One last adjustment to the fall of her pencil skirt, and a tug on her matching jacket, and she entered the open office space that led to the individual offices. First on her list was a galvanising cup of coffee.

Oh gawd. As she turned to step from the kitchen area with her much yearned for coffee, she noted who was now stood near the fridge.

“Well if it isn’t the second-best PA in London,” John greeted her with, wearing the smarmiest smile she had ever seen. He leaned against the wall as though he had all the time in the world.

“If PA means Pathetic Adult or Piss Artist, I’m happy to let you be top,” she countered, strolling past him to get to her desk. “It suits you down to the ground.”

“The ground is where you belong, but I’ll let you stay here,” he smirked.

“You’re so kind,” she sarcastically responded with a mock bow. 

“Will you two pack it in!” the office manager grumbled at them as she sternly eyed them from her nearby desk. “Anyone would think you’re the same age as your shoe size.”

“Talking of eight year olds,” one of their co-workers stated, “child ahoy. Is he one of yours?” 

At the end of the corridor leading into the office a young lad appeared, probably early teens judging by his school uniform, looking quite distressed. “Dad?” he wailed as he stumbled forward. 

John instantly stood up straighter to greet him. “What’s the matter, Jamie? What’s happened?”

“Dad,” Jamie whimpered, throwing himself into John’s embrace. “It’s awful.”

“You can’t keep doing this,” John muttered in irritation. “Follow me.” He then held onto the boy’s shoulders and led him towards the design offices. 

Donna tried to watch impassively, her mind latching onto the words John had angrily said. Young Jamie kept appearing like this, did he? That must impact on John’s job and his ability to do it. How unreliable of him…

Stop thinking evil thoughts, she chastised herself. Poor boy, all upset like that. Children do all sorts of odds things that interfere with work. ‘But would John let it go if it was Jenny who kept showing up like this, all helpless?’ her traitorous mind pushed forward.

Well, she supposed he would use it against her. Or someone else in the company would. She’d seen it happen to enough people. Although it rarely happened to a man. 

Time to find out more, she decided.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I couldn't resist adding more to this. Hope you don't mind too much.

Following in the father and son’s wake, Donna popped her head around the design office doorway to ask, “Would you like a drink of water, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” John saucily replied.

“I was talking to the boy, not you!” she spat. 

“Maybe, but it does rather imply you’d call me ‘sweetheart’,” he reasoned. He turned to his son and remarked, “She loves me really.”

“As what though, is the question,” she responded, unable to insult him in her usual style in front of young family. It wouldn’t do to set a bad example. That fact had been drummed into her by her mother. “Anyway, I don’t need to know how you are doing. Do I presume this is your son?”

“Yes, this is Jamie,” he proudly confirmed. “Jamie, this is merely a work colleague. An associate who is wasting her time standing about here.”

“It’s a bit low to class your son as a waste of time,” she countered. “But I get the message and will leave you two alone. If you have any problems with this one, Jamie, just come and find me and I’ll sort him out. The name’s Donna, since he didn’t tell you.”

“Yes, thank you, Donna,” John grouched, physically pushing her out of his office. “We won’t be needing you.”

“Says you,” she scoffed, allowing him to remove her from his desk area.

“You must be used to people not needing you by now,” he lashed out. “Me in particular.”

“I bet you dream of me at night,” she quietly taunted him. “Invading your wish-fulfilling hours.”

“Yes, it’s called having a nightmare,” he cried at her retreating back. “Bloody woman!” he complained as he shut the office door. “Who the fuck does she think she is? Oops,” he murmured as he remembered Jamie was sitting there, face agape. “That’s just a bit of silliness between us,” he hastily explained. “We’re always having pretend arguments. It means nothing.”

“If ‘nothing’ means at each other’s throats all the time,” his boss noted from afar. The inner door then opened to show Derek Cunningham, the company director of design. “Hello Jamie. Why are you here again?”

His questioning gaze had young Jamie stammering an explanation. 

“He’s having a spot of bother,” John quickly validated. “With his stomach,” he near whispered. 

“Hmm,” Derek huffed and turned on his heel. “Make sure he isn’t here long.”

“Dad, I need the loo,” Jamie hesitantly requested as soon as Derek went back into his office. 

“Go on then. You know where it is. Come right back here once you’ve finished.”

Jamie dutifully nodded and raced to the gents’ toilet.

When he emerged, feeling a little bit better, the main office was full of the sound of typing on keyboards, people murmuring work related things, and tiny movements as they fidgeted with their posture or clothing. It was a completely different world to school. A much calmer, nicer world.

Now in no particular hurry, he sauntered along the corridor and peered at the name plates on individual office doors as well as glimpsed at several workstations. One door he passed on the way was for the financial department. He would have ignored it, but for the fact that the door was slightly open and the ginger woman his dad had called Donna was sitting in there. As soon as she spotted him, she merrily waved him nearer, and he happily complied. 

“Hello Jamie. We seem destined to meet,” she greeted him. “Fancy doing some arithmetic?” She pointed at some paperwork in front of her.

“No thanks,” he instantly retorted, much to her amusement. “Don’t you find all that boring?”

“Not in the slightest,” she warmly assured him. “And best of all, every now and then, I get a handsome young man to visit me.”

“Who…?” he started to ask, and then realised she meant him; and blushed with concealed delight. At that moment, his stomach reminded him of its existence, and he winced as the pain ballooned up again. 

“Everything alright?” she immediately queried with concern. “You in pain?”

“It’s my stomach,” he mumbled, hugging his waistline. “It hurts.”

“Hang on. I might have something to help,” she announced, and pulled up off the floor a large handbag. After rifling through it for some seconds, she produced a small brown glass bottle. “This might do the trick. Sit yourself down. Give me a mo and I’ll get you some water.”

“What is it?” he wondered, eyeing the bottle with distrust when she reappeared moments later with a cup of water. 

“An antacid liquid,” she supplied. “Works a treat on me usually. I get it from the chemist and its miles cheaper than that branded antacid they advertise. I’ll warn you now, it tastes disgusting, but it is really good stuff. Drink the water immediately afterwards.”

He took the dosage with the water, making a face of repulsion as it went down. “A bit like minty liquorice,” he commented.

She nodded in agreement. “I’m not mad on liquorice myself. How does that feel?”

Cautiously, he replied, “Alright so far.” 

“It should take about twenty minutes to have a full affect,” she warned. “If that don’t work, I’ll try rubbing your back, like when you were a baby, but hopefully it won’t come to that.”

“Hopefully,” Jamie chuckled, enjoying this exchange. If the stuff didn’t work, he decided, he would let her try the rubbing technique. “How come you’ve got all that stuff in your bag?”

“I’m a mum. When you’re a mum you have to carry around emergency supplies for everything. It’s almost the law,” she joked, making him smile. When the smile inevitably turned wistful, she asked, “Does your dad tend to be prepared for everything?”

“Not really,” young Jamie sighed. “Things like screwdrivers, drills, batteries and electrical wire are about, but medicine stuff is only bought when it’s needed.”

“I see,” she noted. “Never mind. I tend to carry painkillers, plasters, and other stuff like that. Even got a tape measure on me.”

“Really?” He then laughed. “For all those measuring emergencies.”

“It has been known to be helpful when buying clothing in places without a changing room,” she boasted and then peered at him thoughtfully. “Do you mind me asking how often this happens?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You having a painful stomach,” she clarified. “Is there a pattern to it?”

“Erm… not really,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

He was hiding something; she was sure of it. “Well, If it happens every Tuesday morning, say, then it points to anxiety. If it happens after you’ve had a particular food the night before, you might have a touch of food poisoning, an allergy or even IBS, which would need a doctor to look at you. Or you could have just picked up a twenty-four-hour bug. Who knows? As I said, it all depends on how often it happens and when.”

“I’ll think about it,” he declared after several moments, making her even more suspicious. 

Now how could she gain his confidence properly? “Did I tell you I’ve got a daughter?” she began. “In fact, you might know her since she goes to your school.”

His interest piqued, he wondered, “What year is she in?”

“She’s got Mr Harkness as her form tutor.”

“Ah, I know,” he brightly replied. “I’ve got Mrs Jones. We’ve just down the corridor from them. What’s her name?”

“Jenny.”

He thought for a moment. “Is that blonde Jenny who does gymnastics?”

“The very one,” she supplied, glad to see his face light up. “So you know her?”

“Oh yes,” he enthused, and then blushed again. “She’s pretty,” he mumbled.

“Yes, she’s lucky like that. Takes after her father in that way,” she added modestly. “Although she probably gets her stroppiness from me.”

He was about to answer when they both heard “Jamie!” being shouted. Standing, he announced, “I’d better go. Bye then.”

“Bye Jamie!” she called after his retreating form.


	3. Chapter 3

“Where the hell have you been?” John angrily demanded to know as soon as he saw his son. With a firm thunk, he shut the office door on the outside world, and then rounded on Jamie. “Who have you been talking to? What did you tell them? It better have not been that woman.”

Poor Jamie almost collapsed under the weight of the questioning. “Nothing, Dad. I said nothing. Honest. I still had pain, so they gave me some stomach medicine, that’s all.”

For a moment, John was impressed with himself for keeping his temper under control. “Who gave it to you?”

“Donna,” Jamie meekly supplied. “But I never said anything about you,” he quickly added when John visibly fumed. “Her bag is full of everything, and she had this bottle, so she offered me some.”

Instant terror filled John. “Bottle of what?!”

“Erm,” Jamie faltered. “I think she called it aunt acid.”

“Antacid,” John corrected, now calming down. “Do you feel any better?”

After giving his stomach a prod, Jamie replied, “Yeah. It’s stopped hurting.”

John raked a hand through his hair, horrified that his son could have been poisoned by someone. Might still be, he realised. “Wait here,” he ordered, and strode out of the office.

His path led him straight to the financial office. “Yes? Can I help you?” Donna greeted him, having anticipated this moment.

“You gave some stuff to my son,” he gritted out through his teeth. “What exactly did you give him?”

“This,” she supplied, holding up the offending bottle. “It tends to help with stomach pain.”

Snatching the bottle from her hand, John carefully read the label, giving himself time to be satisfied with the information. A quick sniff of the contents followed. “That looks okay,” he finally declared, placing the bottle down onto her desk. “Just don’t do that in future. It should be me who gives him any medication.”

“And do you happen to have any of that stuff with you?” she wondered. 

“No,” he replied, “but it isn’t your place to hand such stuff over.”

This was true, but her personal reputation was at risk here. “Look, I understand you being concerned about him, because what parent wouldn’t, and I apologise for not running it passed you first, but I would never, ever, poison a child. Even one of yours.”

Before John could respond with an expletive, a familiar balding head appeared around the door. It was their CEO, Victor Farnsworth. “Ah, there you are. Good morning,” he cheerily greeted them both. “I’m glad I caught you two together.”

“Good morning, Vic,” Donna immediately forced herself to pleasantly reply. “How are you?”

“Fine, thanks,” he answered. “The wife has asked me to invite you and your families to a barbecue at the house. Would you both be interested in going?”

“Of course, we would,” John gushed. “Thank you.”

“When is it?” Donna asked. “And how formal will it be?”

“Oh, more or less casual,” Vic replied. “It’ll be the first Sunday next month. Sorry it’s quite soon but we were waiting for the caterers to confirm. Is that alright?”

“Yes,” John agreed. “What’s the occasion?”

“In case we need to get a card or something,” Donna tacked on as they both listened eagerly. 

“Just a new idea Margaret got to have a company do. A little break as we get to know each other more. Nothing serious,” Vic informed them. “Anyway, lots of paperwork to deal with, so I’ll leave you to it. Cheerio.”

“Bye!” they chorused as Vic left them alone.

As soon as the coast was clear, John asked her, “Do you think he is testing us with this invite?”

“Well, d’uh!” Donna retorted. “Of course, he is. I’ll have to invest in a new dress.”

“A new shirt and tie. Perhaps buy another suit,” he noted to himself.

“This one’s a bit old,” she commented, pointing at his jacket. “Must be at least three years old.”

“I thought it was rather fetching,” he pouted, adjusting the fall of his lapels. 

She made a twisted expression. “Depends who you are trying to impress. Although I heard that Martha fancies you. Gawd knows why.”

A possible fan? “Martha? Who’s Martha?” he wondered.

“The company medical assistant in Research. That Martha. Sheesh!” she scorned. “You must have seen her. Pretty, okay beautiful. Petite, young and intelligent. You must be blind not to have noticed.”

“Don’t think I have,” he admitted, scratching his head. “She’s in Research, you say?”

“I wish I hadn’t now. The poor woman doesn’t deserve to gain your attention.”

“Keeping me all to yourself, huh?” he cheekily pondered. 

The arrogant… “I’d keep you in the bin if it were possible, but you have a son to worry about.”

“Oh, Jamie,” he suddenly remembered. “I’d better go and…”

“Yes, you’d better,” she encouraged him to leave. “Don’t go talking all harshly to him. I know what you’re like.”

“I’ll be all sweetness and light,” he vowed as he walked away. 

“All meanness and spite, more like it,” she muttered to her now empty office.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** sorry for the delay in updating this but RL is being rather dramatic at the moment.

By the time lunchtime ended, Donna had had enough. There had been no sign of John and his son Jamie, and she needed to know if the boy was alright. Using the return of an empty coffee mug as her excuse, she sauntered by John’s office. Peering inside the design department space, she noted there was no sign of Jamie. 

“What have you done with him?” she immediately asked.

But John didn’t answer her question. His intention was something else entirely. “Look who it is,” he announced, getting up out of his chair to approach her in the doorway. “It’s the potential child poisoner.”

“I said I was sorry about that,” she defended. “I meant him no harm. Honest.”

“And why should I believe you?” he goaded. 

“Because I may want to murder you in your sleep, and quite frankly do us all a favour, but Jamie is innocent. He was in pain, so I helped him,” she retorted. “Ask him yourself.” 

“He’s not here anymore,” John airily supplied.

“Oh? Polished him off, buried the body and come back to put the blame on me, have you?” she taunted.

“No,” he huffed. Although that was an excellent plan, should he ever need to use it. “He was feeling better, so I sent him back to school.”

“Then I did the right thing,” she boasted. “You can thank me later, but don’t go to any expense.” 

She had turned to walk away, yet he had to shoot one more insult. “Would paying out for a hitman to get rid of you be too much?”

Her smirk made him want to throw something in rage! And she had the cheek to walk away from him. 

“Now that you’ve announced your intentions to the whole office, it’d be enough to get you locked up for life,” she spoke over her shoulder.

All eyes in the outside office were now locked onto him, waiting for his next move, so any decent retaliation would have to wait. This needed thinking about.

“It’d be worth it to get away from you,” he muttered as he returned to his desk, fuming with indignation. 

How had she got the better of him when it was her that was at fault?

He thought he had been given his chance to score points against her when a couple of mornings later a familiar figure appeared at his office door. 

They murmured plaintively, “Dad?”

It was involuntary when John responded, somewhat testily, “Not again, Jamie.” 

“But it hurts,” Jamie cried.

It wasn’t in John to be genuinely mean to his son, not when he had to be mother and father all rolled into one. The boy had suffered enough as it was, in the last few years. 

He stood to offer a hug and noticed Jamie was holding something in his hand. “What’s that you've got there?” 

Jamie sheepishly revealed the item held in his grasp. “Donna gave it to me to show you. It’s the same stuff as before.”

“I see,” he quietly seethed. His conscience prodded him to remind him he had to go into dad mode. “Did it work last time?” 

There was a cautious, “Yes.” 

“Any side effects?” When the boy looked puzzled, he tacked on, “Things that happened that you didn’t want to, like itching, a rash, breathing problems, headache, more pain?” 

“No.” Jamie shook his head. “Only you going ballistic.” 

“Ah. An effect but not a medicine side effect.” He took in a deep breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it to happen, let alone upset you. Come here,” he softly ordered and engulfed his son in a heartfelt embrace. “Take the medicine and thank Donna for her thoughtfulness.” 

“I will,” Jamie easily vowed. “You’re not mad at me? I know how much you hate her.”

That brought him up short, and John released his hold. “I worry about you but I’m not angry. It just looks that way. As for Donna, I don’t hate her, as such. I just find her infuriating, and between you and me, more than a bit intimidating. Her witty insults are legendary, but don’t tell her any of this.”

Still giggling, Jamie agreed. “I won’t.” He paused before wondering, “So, it’s okay to actually like her?”

“You are free to like whoever you want. I hope you know that.” 

“I do now.” Picking up the bottle, Jamie informed him, “I need to get some water to drink with this.” 

With a small smile on his face, John ushered him away. The next step was to find out why this kept happening. Perhaps Donna might have some ideas? 

“One bottle, for the return of,” he stated as he placed it carefully on Donna’s desk before her later that day. When she looked up, he added more softly, “Thank you for looking out for him.”

It gained the sunny smile he was hoping for. “You're welcome,” she warmly replied. “Is he alright now? He’s a gorgeous lad. You must be very proud of him.”

“I am,” he admitted, “and also concerned. I’ve sent him back to school now that he feels better. Has he said anything about it to you?”

“Well… I did find out that double PE is one of the lessons he has been missing,” she confessed. “From what Jenny says, Mr Saxon is a right tyrant with the boys. A complete prat. Apparently, he’s got no time for anyone who isn’t talented or athletic.” 

“Oh,” he murmured. “That could be it. Jamie is more a bookworm than into sports. How do I deal with this?” 

The fact that his late wife had probably dealt with things like this was unspoken, but Donna understood the sub-context, and knew exactly what to do, thanks to a previous school placement. “Talk to the Head of Year, Ms Price. She’ll help you. Does he learn an instrument?”

“The violin.” 

“Then there’s your answer. Speak to Mrs Mace and ask if he can spend that time practising in the music room. I’ve known other people who have done it. Marcus Foster for one.” 

He had no idea who Marcus Foster was, but it gave him a way to talk this through with Jamie first before approaching Mrs Mace. “That might work.”

“Or other departments might welcome him. Go do some artwork, help out in the library, do staff teas, or clean someone’s supply cupboard,” she suggested. “There are loads of places he could avoid unwanted stress.”

“That’s really helpful, thanks.” Of course, he had to go and spoil things a bit by opening his mouth. “Why are you being this nice to me?” he asked suspiciously. 

Her answer surprised him. “I’m not. Not really. This is for Jamie’s benefit, not yours. You can carry on as usual, throwing hissy fits with me, if you want. But I won’t drag him into it.”

“Right,” was the only thing he could think of to say, but he’d been given plenty to think about. “Business as usual.”

Waiting for her nod of approval first, he left her office and headed back towards his own. 

Had he become a monster in his son’s life? The thought horrified him, and he determined to make things better as soon as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

“Men! Who knows what goes on in their tiny little minds?” Donna pondered out loud. 

The financial director just happened to be passing her desk and stopped in her tracks as she aimed for the inner office. 

Margery Pinkerton then peered at her PA. “You know, Donna, this feud of yours with John isn’t doing you both any good. If it carries on, when one of you gets to be Vic’s PA, the other might be ousted from the company to save us from any conflict, and it’ll look as though it was by personal choice.”

“You’re saying that in such a way that you think I’ll get it and be blamed for him losing his job,” Donna tried to joke. 

“Well, you are the strongest candidate,” Margery admitted, “and I know your conscience won’t cope with John being forced out.”

Stunned, Donna realised, to her surprise, that she really did care what happened to him and Jamie. “I’ll certainly try and do something about it,” she vowed. 

“Of course, there is also the other theory about you two, floating about,” Margery added, grabbing this chance for a diverting gossip. She smiled knowingly. 

“What theory?” Donna inevitably asked. As far as she knew, there was no alternative theory about her, floating or otherwise. 

Margery turned in the doorway, halting her retreat. “Why, the fact you are obviously in lust with each other.” 

“Don’t give me that!” Donna protested with a laugh. “This is like that load of bollocks saying: ‘boys pull the pigtails of girls they fancy’, when the truth is, they hate their guts.”

“Oh?” Margery quirked a disbelieving eyebrow. “Sometimes it is better to get a reaction, any reaction, even if it is negative, rather than nothing at all. True hatred is indifference.” 

“You’re just thinking of that Oscar Wilde quote,” Donna scoffed. “‘The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.’ It doesn’t apply to me.” 

“Are you completely sure about that?” Margery queried. “You seem to care about his reaction rather too much. There might be some truth in it. He could be hiding a burning passion for you.” 

It was beyond Donna’s ability to hold in the roar of laughter that forced its way out. 

“Passion,” she laughed. “He would rather stick pins in my effigy.”

“Just think about it,” Margery suggested, “but not before you have finished checking those expense accounts credit card statements.” 

Donna knew a prod when she heard it. “I’ll get on with them right away.”

Little did she know that John was having a similar conversation in the design office. 

Derek Cunningham was checking the parts list price quote from a local manufacturer when he made his observation. “Has that little matter with the finance office PA been sorted out yet?”

“Do you mean Donna? What little matter?” John wondered as he lowered his pen and notepad. 

“John,” Derek sighed, “you said you were going to sort out your spat with her. It upsets the whole office; and does you no favours. If you are going to be Vic’s new PA, you’ll have to be seen as someone who can resolve disputes, not keep them running.” 

Blushing, John protested, “That’s easier said than done when you are dealing with the stubbornness of the likes of Donna Noble.”

“Be that as it may,” Derek countered, “can’t you just date the woman and get it over and done with?”

“What would dating her achieve?” John demanded to know. 

It was on Derek’s mind to shake his PA into having some more sense. “For one, you’d finally get laid after your so far futile attempts to win her attention, and we can get back to running this business rather than watch you dance around her at every opportunity.” 

“I do not dance around her,” John blazed in denial. “She comes after me most of the time.” 

Putting his glasses slowly back on, no doubt for dramatic effect, Derek pursed his lips. “Sex is such a dirty word, yet you clearly crave it with her. All I’m asking is that you take all that longing out of the office and put it back in the bedroom where it belongs. It certainly amuses them out there…” He airily waved a hand towards the women in the outer office space. “…but I find it tiresome on a day to day basis.” 

Now thoroughly embarrassed by this accusation, John mumbled, “Sorry. I’ll try and do something about it.”

“Don’t just try, do,” Derek emphasised. “Now, back to the task in hand. This new valve,” he continued, changing the topic of conversation. 

For once, John was grateful for his boss’s sudden tangential thoughts. It stopped him having to contemplate his own for a while. 

And if that meant avoiding Donna in the coffee room for the next few days, he was sure he could live with that. At least until he had worked out what his own emotions exactly were. They were currently all over the place and landed on embarrassment far too often for his own comfort.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** and now with an added banner, thanks to the gorgeous and highly talented [dreamerbee](https://dreamerbee.tumblr.com/post/629285165904150528/hey-tumblr-long-time-no-draw-these-two-but) [see chapter 1 for larger image]

“Have you chosen your outfits for this do at Vic’s yet?” John tried to nonchalantly ask Donna when he eventually got caught alone in the kitchen area with her a few days later.

It had been a quiet couple of days. Almost eerily silent. And for some reason he found himself needing to hear her scoff at him again, to bring back a sense of normality to his days.

She had turned from the coffee machine in surprise, eyeing him up and down before replying, “Haven’t seen you in days. I was beginning to think you were on holiday or off sick. Is everything alright? Is Jamie okay?”

“Nice to know you missed me,” he retorted before he could stop himself. “Jamie is fine, although those stomach pains of his still worry me.”

“Do you want me to have a word with him,” she offered. “It might help if it isn’t you doing the asking,” she tacked on when he glared. “You know how touchy kids that age can be.”

Oh, this was an olive branch, he suddenly realised. “It might help,” he agreed, “and I could return the favour by talking to your daughter, if you like.”

“Good luck with that,” she scoffed. “Jenny is going through a door slamming mood at the moment. Lots of pent up anger often aimed in my direction. Hopefully, it is hormonal rather than some guttersnipe breaking her heart.” 

Hormones could stay where they are, safely locked away, as far as he was concerned. “Worth a try then,” he forced himself to breezily reply. _She’s looking at me odd_ , he suddenly chastised himself, _do something normal_. “As long as she doesn’t fall for my dashingly good looks in the process.” Phew. Pulled it back from the brink. 

“She’s more likely to fall down a manhole cover,” Donna sarcastically stated, “but sure. Why not. I’d get to spend a lovely time with your Jamie, and you get to thank God you never had a teenage daughter.”

“It’s a deal,” he enthused.

Now that aspect of their relationship was sorted, he had to find a way around the other matter. The one where people thought he ought to court Donna. To do this, he decided, would involve a conversation with Martha Jones in Research, and confront the possibility of dating head on.

The new unspoken peace treaty between them was rather nice, Donna thought as she stepped out into the afternoon sunshine. It made being around the general office much nicer. 

She tilted her face up to the sun, basking in its warmth. Then she suddenly noticed a tall skinny figure had fallen into step with her. As she turned to see who it was, he grinned disarmingly at her.

“Going out for some lunch?” John enquired as he matched her pace. “It’s a nice day for it.”

“Not quite,” she carefully answered. “I’ve been asked to taste test some food for a wedding. Apparently, it’s part of my bridesmaid duties, Nerys says. Had her on the phone to me last night, insisting I look into this wedding cake place.”

“Tasting wedding cakes?” He frowned. “Isn’t that all a bit American? I thought the design was more important than the taste. Just pick a nice Dundee cake and ice it in a fancy way.”

“Tell me about it. Those Hollywood films have got a lot to answer for,” she huffed. “Since it’s not a conventional wedding, she wants everything else to be unusual.”

“I see,” he noted. “Why isn’t she here doing this tasting?”

“Got an important meeting she couldn’t get out of, and Nina, that’s her fiancée, is looking after the twins.”

“Leaving it all to you,” he ended for her. “You’d think they’d just do it later, wouldn’t you?”

“Exactly. I’m in two minds to deliberately choose something they’d hate.” She quickly added, “Not that I would. It’s their special day, after all.”

He nodded. “I suppose…,” he began to offer. “No, that’d be daft.”

“What? What would be?” she inevitably wondered. 

Giving a small cough, he stammered, “I could erm… I could come with you. Help do the taste testing, if you want.” 

He looked at her with those huge puppy dog eyes of his, melting her resolve.

“Why not,” she decided. “I’d get to see you actually eat for once, and if you’re really horrible to me, I can stuff the cake right into your face.”

Fortunately, he laughed and then offered her his arm to hold. “Shall we?” 

Wrapping her hand around his forearm suddenly seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. “Careful, people will think we’re together,” she teased as they walked.

“I think I can safely handle that,” he cheekily boasted.

In time at all they cheerily entered the bakery Nerys had chosen. “I’m Donna, here on behalf of Nerys and Nina,” she told the shop assistant.

“Oh yes. I’m Maisie. Come through, please.” She led them to the back of the shop where a table was set out, laid with several plates of small pieces of cake. “Please make yourselves comfortable,” she requested as she indicated for them to sit. “We’ve given you samples of each of the flavours we do. I’ll leave you alone to enjoy your tasting then I will be back to hear the verdict in about ten minutes.”

“Well. This is impressive,” John commented as he eyed the display. “They’ve even thought to leave us some water.”

“Hopefully we won’t need it for a particularly disgusting cake,” Donna replied. “I’d better take notes.”

“Always the PA,” he noted as she produced a notepad. “How are we doing this?”

“Start at the back and work forwards,” she suggested, reaching for the first plate. “Mmmm. This lemon one is delicious,” she moaned a few minutes later. 

“Let me taste it,” he begged, and laughed when the morsel almost fell off her fork. “Ah ah aah, you don’t get away from me that easily,” he crooned, holding her hand steady in his grasp. 

It meant that she got to see him devour the tiny slice within centimetres of her face. The relish with which he ate fascinated her. “Do you often eat like that?” 

That didn’t sound as annoyed as usual. “With my mouth and teeth? Yes, it’s normal. How else am I supposed to do it?” he answered. 

“Well,” she babbled, “I don’t know.” 

He tsked and then offered her a piece of the cake he had been trying. “Give this a go. It’s cherry and chocolate.”

It would have been rude to refuse, and he had held it so invitingly next to her lips. Seconds later it was in her mouth and on her tongue, exploding with flavour. “Oh my God, that is good!”

“Isn’t it,” he agreed with a lick of his lips. “It’s almost wicked.”

“Right up Nerys’ street.” She nodded fervently as she chewed. “What’s next?”

He eyed the remaining plates. “There’s a maple and pecan or raspberry one,. Which one shall we go for first?”

“I’ll let you choose,” she replied, unable to make such a simple decision for the life of her. Having him sit so close, tempting her taste buds, was doing things to her senses. 

His sly grin said it all. This was bonding on a whole different level. He hadn’t had so much fun with a woman in years. 

That thought flashed a moment of grief through him, but he batted it away, reminding himself that both him and Jamie were allowed to enjoy life now. This moment was harmless, eating cake with a colleague as they grew closer. And when he turned to take another bite from her fork, he almost totally believed it. 

It was the other thought that he had to bat away which caused the hesitation. The one where he wondered what it would be like to share that tasty morsel with her more intimately.

“Have you and your husband finished tasting the cakes yet?” Maisie, the shop assistant, suddenly asked from behind them, bursting his sensual bubble. 

“Oh! We’re not married,” Donna hurriedly denied. 

The woman merely smiled rather apologised. “So, when’s the big day?”

_What!_ “No, we’re not even…,” John began to splutter. 

“I’m only here on behalf of the brides,” Donna clarified at the same time. “All this isn’t for us in the slightest. I’ve merely been asked to do the taste tests.”

“That’s a shame,” Maisie genially commented. “Anyway. Have you got all the information you need?”

“Yes, thank you,” Donna gushed. “I’ll be sure to report back to Nerys which ones we liked. And you should be hearing from her soon.”

“That’s lovely,” Maisie replied. She waited for them to collect their belongings and then ushered them outside. 

It seemed weird to be back in the outside world. John wanted to grab a little bit of it for longer before they returned to the normality of the office. “Shall we go and get ourselves a coffee?” he suggested. 

“That’d be great,” she readily agreed, taking his arm again. “Weird how she thought we were married.”

“Very odd,” he agreed as the concept continued to whirr around his head. “I hope it doesn’t keep happening.”

“I did warn you,” she teased. “We dodged that problem, but it might happen again. You never know with the people at work.”

“Ah, I’ve found a solution for that,” he cheerily informed her. “I’m going to ask Martha in Research to be my date on Sunday for Vic’s do.”

Suddenly the sunshine in her day turned icy cold. 

“That’s nice,” she forced herself to say.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite his nonchalant words to Donna, John didn’t exactly rush to talk to Martha. In fact, he might have been accused of deliberately waiting in the hope of her having a prior engagement, if anyone had been paying attention.

“Jamie,” he hesitantly began at dinner that evening, “I’ve been thinking about something.”

His son looked up from his plate. “What sort of something?” he warily asked.

“About dating,” John said quickly. “I think it’s time I tried it. Dating again, I mean. Since it’s been a while. On that note, I might ask someone to go to this company do on Sunday.”

“But I’m going with you,” Jamie reasoned. “Why do you need anyone else?”

“It might help me to get on in the company if I had a date,” John explained. “You’ll be off to university in a few years and I’ll be left all on my own.”

“That’s years away,” Jamie laughed. 

“For me it will seem much quicker.”

Jamie eyed his father suspiciously and then prodded his fork dispassionately into his dinner. “Who did you have in mind? Have you picked someone out to be your girlfriend already? Honest Dad, everyone else’s dad seems to have a girlfriend at the moment. Are you just joining a fad?”

“No, nothing like that,” John denied. “The time feels right to move on, and I was considering asking someone at work.”

Jamie immediately gasped in shock. “But you hate Donna!”

“Hate is a very strong word. Why would I pick Donna?” John queried. “No, not her. There’s a woman called Martha that I thought I might ask.”

“Why?”

“Well…” John rubbed his neck and nervously averted his gaze. “Apparently, she has a thing for me.”

“Is that it? Or do you like her?” Jamie demanded. 

“I erm…” John blushed. “That seemed a good enough place to start.”

“Sounds a bit weird to me,” Jamie remarked as he returned his full attention to his meal. “You’ve always told me that I should respect anyone I dated and really like them first.”

“I never…,” John started to deny, but realised that he had actually said that. “Anyway, I just thought I’d better warn you that we might be joined by someone else.”

“I already know we’ll be joined by someone,” Jamie proclaimed, and raised his eyes to stare directly at his dad. “Jenny and her mum will be there.”

“And we might have an extra guest,” John added, but even to his own ears it sounded childish. Was this how every parent felt when they told their teenager about a possible date?

The following afternoon he raced by the finance office door and out into the corridor that led to the research department. The idea was to catch Martha before she left the building.

As luck would have it, she soon emerged through the double doors, and John stepped forward. “Excuse me, Martha. Can I have a quick word, please?” he requested.

She turned to her friend and told her, “I won’t be long. Meet you down in the foyer.” Without waiting for her colleague, she gazed expectantly at John. “What did you want to say?”

“Ah.” He fidgeted with the pen he was still holding. “I have been invited to Vic’s house on Sunday for a company barbecue and am allowed to take someone with me.”

“You’re going with Donna. I heard,” she answered. “Are you asking me for some advice?”

“What! No. I don’t…” He shook his head in wonder. “Why does everyone suddenly think I’m after Donna? Good grief! That woman is annoyance personified. We may have called a truce but that does not make us a couple in any sense of the word.”

“Sorry,” Martha quickly apologised. “I just assumed you needed help in that direction. If you don’t want that, what do you want?”

“I erm… I was wondering if you would like to come with us. That’s me and my son,” he managed to say, much to his relief. “As my date. Or friend. Whichever you’d be comfortable with.”

Martha stared at him. Okay, she was mature enough to admit to herself that she still fancied him, despite her friend not understanding why, but she wasn’t desperate enough to just throw herself on a bloke that seemed interested. On the other hand, being seen at the CEO’s place might work in favour of her career, if she played her cards right. All she had to cope with was John’s obvious denial about his interest in another woman. “What about Donna?”

He shrugged. “No idea. I doubt she’ll even turn up with a date. Okay, she might. You don’t have to worry about her.”

“Alright, I’ll come, as your friend,” Martha announced. “But no funny business.”

“I assure you there won’t be,” he promised. 

It was finally the day, Donna had thought that Sunday morning. The summer dresses had been bought, shoes polished, and journey into the countryside made. A very foreign place compared to the urban delights of Chiswick. Everyone important would be at Vic’s and she had to suitably impress them. 

She wasn’t sure exactly _how_ she was supposed to be impressive, because she hoped her skills and work ethic had already spoken for her, but you never know with businesspeople. Anyway, the garden was lovely, it wasn’t cold or overcast, and the people so far had been friendly if not understandably distant. 

Trying to act surreptitiously, Donna anxiously adjusted the fall of her dress and cast a critical but pleased eye over Jenny’s attire. “That blue looks lovely on you,” she complimented. 

“Thanks, Mum,” Jenny sighed. “I’d much rather wear my jeans. Why does all this have to be so formal?” She waved a hand at the surrounding garden full of people. 

“Because it’s connected to work,” Donna answered, gazing at Vic’s other guests. “I was hoping John and Jamie would have been here by now.”

“Yes, hurry up, Jamie,” Jenny echoed. “I need a friendly face in this sea of old fogies.”

“Oi!” Donna indignantly exclaimed. “I’m not exactly collecting my pension yet.”

“You know what I mean,” Jenny insisted. She suddenly turned her head to peer intently at some newcomers. “Is that them? They’re with a woman. Who is she?”

“That’s Martha, John’s date. He said he’d probably ask her.”

Jenny’s frown turned compassionate. “His date? Oh Mum. I’m sorry.” 

“Why? What’s there to be sorry about?” Donna defended. “He mentioned he felt ready to date again and here he is, doing that.”

“But you’re upset. I know you are.” 

“Merely a bit jealous, that’s all. Not about her,” Donna denied. “About him managing to find someone so easily when I have only been offered a quick fumble by some dirty old man.”

Yet Jenny wasn’t convinced in the slightest.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I'm thinking of writing a DVD extra for this.

If he was completely honest with himself, a state he was not willing to exist in yet, John would have admitted that the organised date with Martha did not go well from the very first moment he’d arrived on her doorstep. Asking someone out purely because they had expressed an interest in you, to other people, does not mean you have joint views on things or that the conversation would flow easily. Not like it had with a certain someone else…

To add to his discomfort, Jamie had grumbled about having to sit in the back of the car when they picked Martha up, had sulked for a little bit, and then had taken it upon himself to fill the silence in the car with inane chatter. Very uncharacteristic of him. His normal mode was ‘monosyllabic teenager’. It was probably part politeness to make Martha feel welcome, and part intended to rile his father. To add insult to injury, his topic of conversation kept centring on Jenny and Donna, to the point that John had started to wonder if he had swallowed an encyclopaedia on them. 

“Do you see much of Jenny?” Martha had asked Jamie during a rare lull.

Leaning forward in his seat, Jamie had practically announced into her ear, “Almost every day.” When he realised his father was attempting to glare at him sideways as he drove, Jamie added, “We’ve become good friends lately. You know, since I met Donna and got to know her a bit.” 

“Martha, why don’t you choose a radio station for us to listen to,” John suggested to change the topic. 

If saying such a thing meant Jamie flumped back into his seat and remained quiet, it had to happen. The last thing John wanted to keep doing was thinking about was Donna flipping Noble when the emotions it conjured up were unwelcome and, quite frankly, inappropriate on a date. 

He managed to not think about her until they reached Vic’s house. However, his emotions went immediately into overdrive when the bright flash of ginger hair in the distance, across the garden turned out to be her, looking stunning in a figuring hugging dress. 

Jamie’s exclaimed gasp of “There they are!” wasn’t needed to make John aware of exactly where Donna and her pretty blonde daughter were. His footsteps would have automatically taken him there anyway. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to place a guiding hand on Martha’s back. 

“They’ve spotted us,” Jenny noted as she watched John, Jamie and Martha make their way across the garden towards them at the table where they had stood. “What’s she like, this Martha?”

“Completely lovely,” Donna supplied, “so don’t go taking your mad ideas out on her. I know what you can be like.”

“As if I would,” Jenny assured her, smiling sweetly. 

“Yeah, you would,” Donna mumbled as John and his party reached them. “Hello. Good to see you again. This is where we’re sitting. Vic’s wife has given us our own table together.” 

She had to give Martha some credit for covering her disappointment they were there too.

“Hello. John said you might come here,” she told Donna, but there was obviously an accusation clearly aimed at him. 

“Did he? I’m like the proverbial bad penny, me,” Donna disparaged.

Choosing a seat directly opposite Donna, Martha asked, “Did you bring a date?”

“No,” Donna answered in confusion. “Was I supposed to? I thought I’d borrow Jamie for a while.” 

From his seat between the two women, John tried to change the subject. “So, they’ve given us our own table? Nothing like making sure we don’t mix with anyone else, eh,” he joked. “We might share secrets.”

“Well I’m,” Donna began, taking hold of Jamie’s arm as he sat by her side, “going to share where the food and drinks are with my handsome escort. I for one am starving. Is anyone else coming to get something?”

Laughing prettily, Martha took John’s arm to be led away. Behind her, Jenny merely scowled.

Martha was called over by a work colleague she knew, after having chosen some items to eat, and she drew Donna into the same conversation for a while. This meant that John and Jenny were the first ones sat back to the table whilst Jamie had good-naturedly left his plate to fetch some drinks.

From her plate, Jenny peered up at John as he ate, her face keen with curiosity. “I’ve heard about you,” she remarked.

“Have you?” John visibly preened himself. “All good, I hope.”

“Mum said you’ve got a list of women you’re working your way through,” Jenny informed him. “That you flirt a lot. Why do you do that?”

Caught off guard, John stammered, “I’m not sure that I do. Perhaps Donna has got me all wrong.”

“I don’t think so,” Jenny confidently assured him. “She gives people the benefit of the doubt, but she tends to get a decent first impression.”

“Charming,” he huffed. “I shall have to ask her about this mysterious list. What’s the matter? Have you eaten something that’s left a horrible taste in your mouth?” His intention was to get her a drink if that was the case. 

“No,” she replied, scrunching up her face even more. “I was just trying to picture you flirting with my mum. Ew! Please don’t do that.”

“I can easily promise I won’t.” He even added in a small shudder of disgust to force his words home. “Not going to happen.”

But he could still feel her beady eyes upon him as she daintily ate her food. 

“Does she often go out with boyfriends?” he tried to nonchalantly enquire. “You know, in her spare time?”

To his relief, Jenny shook her head. “My mum isn’t like that.”

What a prickly girl, he thought. 

“Martha still not here?” Donna asked as Jamie and her returned to the table with their loaded plates.

John turned his head to look for his date. “No. It seems the technical department have waylaid her,” he answered. 

“Hmm.” Donna considered him before taking her first bite of food. “Weird how you don’t sound gutted. Not exactly romantic, is it. Are you always like this on dates?”

“I erm… I wouldn’t know,” he spluttered. “Been a while since I’ve been on one. Years in fact.”

“Still,” she reasoned, “you could have done a bit more to make her feel more welcome with you. Jamie tells me you didn’t even buy her flowers or some other gift.”

“Jamie can mind his own business,” he said pointedly. “Anyway, at least I have a date, unlike a certain someone.”

“Who me?” she wondered nonchalantly. “Yes, I have.”

He stopped eating to ask, “Who?”

In answer, she placed a brief touch on Jamie’s arm at her side. “Him, of course.” 

Now part of the conversation, Jamie grinned proudly at his dad. “I’m not really her date but Donna said I could practise being gentlemanly. Like that Mr Darcy all the girls fancy.”

“Good luck with that one,” John muttered.

“Oi! Give over,” Donna chided him. “Let the boy learn what the right thing to do is.”

“A lot of the boys in school could do with learning some decent manners,” Jenny put in. She then cheekily told Jamie, “I also know a few girls who might be interested in seeing the new, improved you.”

“Really?” Jamie squeaked; his face lit up in excitement. 

“Don’t be mean to him,” John chastised Jenny. “Take no notice of her, she’s probably winding you up,” he crooned to his son. 

But Jenny shook her head. “I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” she assured Jamie. “Mum could be a _very_ good influence on you.”

“That’d be a first,” John deliberately mumbled. 

When Jenny’s nostrils flared defensively in anger, Donna subtly indicated not to take it further. “It must be so hard for you to sit here with us, without Martha,” she softly riled him. “Especially as someone at the food table asked me if we were a family.”

“What!” he exclaimed, a frown forming on his forehead. “We can’t have that. I hope you put them straight.”

“Of course,” she answered. 

“I think,” Jenny proclaimed to Jamie, “that I would make your family even better if I was part of it. Don’t you agree with me?”

“In what way? Although you could be my wicked stepsister,” he countered.

“Yes,” she agreed, leaning close to whisper, “but just think of all the girls I’d get to go to your house.”

His eyes went wide. “Maybe you could think about it, Dad,” he quickly suggested; causing them all to laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

They had barely finished their food when a figure appeared by their table. It was their host and boss, Vic. “Sorry to spoil your meal,” he began his announcement, “but my wife’s miniature poodle, Pixie, has gone missing. Would you help us look for her? She’s a little white ball of fluff and prone to escaping from the house when she can.”

“Of course,” Donna answered for the table. “We’ll look right away.”

“Good,” Vic enthused. “There’s extra special ice cream treat for whoever finds her. I’ll round up some more people.” With that, he strode off to the next table of volunteers.

“Poor Pixie,” Jenny crooned in sympathy. “I’ll help.”

“Are we doing this as a whole group, or are we splitting up?” John asked them. “We’d cover more ground as pairs.”

“Then I’ll have Jamie as my partner,” Donna declared, making him blush.

“Oh no,” Jenny worried. “That leaves me with him!” She half pointed at John. “Do I have to?”

“I’m nice,” John protested. “Most of the time,” he tacked on when Donna glared.

“And you are also a stranger to her,” Donna reasoned. “Okay, you go with Jamie, Jenny, and I’ll go with John.”

“Yes!” Jenny slightly punched the air whilst Jamie tried to not look too pleased with himself being fought over.

“I’m not an ogre,” John complained to Donna as they headed into the extended garden.

“Are you sure?” she teased, dodging a low-hanging branch. “Because if you were, that’d make me Princess Fiona.”

“You want to be an ogre too?” he laughed. “At least you have the hair for it.”

“Obviously, I’m talking about the beginning of the film,” she argued, “you know, when she was still beautiful.”

“She stayed beautiful to Shrek,” he pointed out. “You’re being fairy tale speciest.”

“I am not,” she hotly denied as the pathway they were following broke out from a load of bushes into an open glen. “Okay, maybe I am a bit. Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” He smirked at her before taking in the pretty scene in front of them. “This is nice. How many people do you think Vic has searching for Mitzi?”

“Pixie,” she corrected him. “Probably everyone. Why?”

He leaned closer to say, “Then they’re bound to find her before we do. Might as well make the most of this piece of privacy while we can.” He marched forward towards an enchanting summerhouse surrounded by pretty foliage.

“What about Jenny and Jamie?” she asked his back.

Over his shoulder, he dismissed her worries. “Probably enjoying an enormous bowl of ice cream as I speak.”

“Probably,” she agreed and followed in his wake. “It really is lovely here,” she observed when they reached the tiny veranda attached to the wooden building.

“Do you think they take bookings for this as a holiday home?” he joked, aiming a broad smile at her.

It was hard for her to resist returning a similar happy grin. Donna took in his nonchalant stance as he leaned against the garden building. “But honestly, shouldn’t we be looking for this dog?”

“Nah!” he answered. “There’s plenty of people here in the garden to do that. We can hide for a while, take in the scenery, and have a rest from it all for a minute or two.”

“Okay.” She sat down on the step next to him, leaned against the summer house as well and contemplated his face. “Now we are pretending to be officially friends, there’s one thing I’m dying to know.”

“Ask away,” he invited, gazing into the middle distance.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

His attention snapped to her. “No, I don’t,” he instantly denied.

“Are you actually going with that line? Seriously?” she scoffed. “You can barely say a nice word to me in front of other people, unless it involves cake.”

“Ah. Well,” he spluttered. “I see what you mean, since I’ve been a bit caustic.”

“A bit?!”

“Alright, a lot,” he agreed. “Thinking about it, it isn’t you. It’s me.”

“It certainly is,” she huffed. “You clearly don’t like me very much, but I can cope with that more if I know why.”

“The thing is,” he slowly began, rubbing his neck in self-comfort as he spoke, “when my wife died, I had a couple of women come on strong to me, and I just wasn’t interested in having any sort of relationship with them. In the end it was easier to be nasty to fend them off rather than nicely get them to leave me alone.”

“I blame all those romantic books where the girl falls in love with a rich widower,” she confided. “They encourage women to see such men as easy meat. If you’ll pardon the expression.” She smiled consolingly at him. “But that isn’t me.”

“I know, but it’s become a habit, because…”

“Because?” she encouraged him to reveal. When his expression went sheepish, her eyes went abruptly wide. “Oh no, don’t tell me I’m suddenly special. Please don’t. I won’t believe a word of it. In fact, I bet you couldn’t say a compliment about me, right this second.”

“What, right now?” he near squeaked.

“Go on,” she dared. “Say the first thing that comes to mind.”

Inevitably, his eyes lowered to her assets. “Well. You do have lovely breasts.” Her breath hitched immediately, so he tacked on enthusiastically, “Truly, they are magnificent. They really are. Especially when you display them in a dress like that.”

“Thanks,” she cagily answered, crossing her arms. Why did every bloke have to have a thing about her breasts? “Has my personality got anything going for it? You know, since we’re on a truth kick here.”

“Erm. Yes,” he acknowledged, nodding his head. “You’re being nice to me when you needn’t be, which shows your compassion.”

“Oh, I love you,” she chuckled, giving his knee a pat. “There’s no need to look so appalled at me touching you,” she chided, whipping her hand away. “That doesn’t mean I seriously love you. It’s a bit sarcastic with a smidgen of fondness.”

He feigned relief to hide his disappointment. “Good to know, since… ditto.”

Of course, she believed him. Not. “Can I ask while I think of it, when did you last hold Jamie’s hand?”

It took him a moment to calculate when. “Let me see. He would have been about eight or nine. Certainly not as old as ten.”

“Why did you stop?” she softly asked.

“Well… He got old enough not to,” he reasoned. “Boys don’t tend to want that sort of thing.”

Wanting to press her point home, she pondered, “That’s merely a cultural restriction. Would you still hold his hand if he was a girl?”

“Good question,” he responded. “Erm. I suppose so. Yes. Do you hold Jenny’s hand?”

“When she lets me or needs it, I do,” she supplied. “Perhaps Jamie needs it every now and then too.”

His thoughts immediately went to his son’s recent mood swings. “Do you think so? I try to hug him when I can.”

“I’m not saying you’re a bad father,” she consoled him when his expression dropped, “and it’s definitely easier to show affection to sons when you’re a mother, from what I’ve seen.”

“And Jamie is missing out on all that,” he guiltily added.

“It’s not your fault,” she soothed, placing a tender touch on his shoulder. “Jenny has had my dad and Gramps as male role models. I’ve not heard you mention anyone in your family.”

“There’s no one else left,” he quietly admitted. “It’s just me and Jamie.”

“Then I’ll help him, if you want me to,” she offered, fixed by his gaze. “He’s a lovely lad, and it’d be no hardship.”

His gentle smile warmed her heart as he asked, “Does that offer extend to me? Would you help me learn to love again?”

“How do you want me to do that?” she wondered, but him easing forward already answered her question.

“Like this,” he begged, meeting her in a sweet kiss. “Or this,” he continued, placing another kiss upon her soft lips.

“You idiot,” she tenderly chided as she returned another, longer kiss.

There was no need to talk after that for a few minutes, because they wrapped their arms around each other and continued the embrace, lovingly placing kisses and enjoying the sweet surrender.


	10. Chapter 10

Jamie opened the tracking app on his phone and peered at the information with interest. 

“Are you sure it’s legal to do that?” Jenny wondered.

“Of course, it is,” he argued. “The deal with Dad was, if he could track me, then I was allowed to track him.”

She shrugged. “Seems fair. So, what does it say?”

“He’s not moved position since we last looked. That was ages ago. Time to bring them back.”

Giggling with him, Jenny pulled out her phone to dial her mother’s number. 

Far away in nearby woodland, their parents could hardly contain their mutual glee. They hadn’t long decided to head back towards the house, having straightened ruffled hair, re-applied smudged lipstick, and adjusted things like ties, when Donna’s phone rang. 

“Where are you?” Jenny worried. “There’s no need for you to keep searching for Vic’s dog. Pixie has been found.”

“That’s good news,” Donna responded. “Who found her?”

“Well,” Jenny hesitated, going coy. “We did.”

“I dug her out,” Jamie supplied in the background. “She’d fell down a rabbit hole.”

“Oh my. You clever clogs,” Donna praised them both. “I hope you’ve been suitably rewarded.” 

“We’re eating it right now,” Jenny answered, somewhat muffled. “It’s some posh ice cream but really nice.”

Probably wiping her mouth, Donna thought as her daughter’s voice became muted again. “Ah,” she exclaimed knowingly, “hence the guilt.” 

“What? We’re saving you some,” Jenny vowed. “Honest.”

Laughing, Donna assured her daughter, “That’s alright. Eat it all. You deserve it. Me and John will be with you any second now.” 

“You sound in a good mood,” Jenny noted. 

Still grinning, Donna confirmed, “Because I am.” 

Winking at Jamie, Jenny pondered, “John wasn’t such an arse with you this time, do I take it?”

“He behaved himself,” Donna cagily replied, looking at his smug, satisfied face. “And none of that language, young lady.”

“You say it,” Jenny countered. 

“Maybe I do,” Donna agreed, “but remember you’re in my boss’s home.”

“Can’t forget it,” Jenny moaned. 

“We didn’t exactly keep that in mind,” John whispered at the same time, as he pulled Donna close in order to kiss her cheek. 

She glared back at him and silently mouthed, “We agreed to keep schtum for the time being.” 

He quickly nodded his ascent and changed the subject. “Is she still with Jamie?” 

“Who are you with right now?” she asked Jenny. 

“It’s just me and Jamie,” Jenny admitted. “Martha is still with that other lot. The science bods.” Jenny’s voice then went lower as she confided, “I think she’s found herself another bloke to go off with.” 

“Really? Who?”

“Tom somebody or other,” Jenny replied. “He’s quite good looking.” 

“She’d better warn Dad,” Jamie advised from beside her. “He’ll be upset otherwise.”

Donna tried to glance at John while he made the most of hugging her as they walked, surreptitiously listening in on the phone conversation. “Oh, I don’t think he will be too gutted to find out Martha has bailed on him.”

He mimed being heartbroken, causing her to silently giggle. 

“I can see the edge of the garden now. Won’t be a sec. Bye!” She then turned to berate him, but he had almost danced away. As he hung onto a tree branch, she thought he was going to embarrass her by breaking into song. “Stop it! You have to think of Martha’s feelings.”

“Okay. I’ll stop,” he promised, still gripping the tree like a drunken mate. “I’m just trying to make the most of this while I can. You know, before it goes tits up.”

“Why would you expect it all to go wrong?”

“Well,” he swung closer to tease, “when Vic announces that I’m his new PA, you’ll suddenly hate me again.” 

She swore later that him managing to choose that precise moment to fall into a huge bush was a complete coincidence. 

“Hello!” Donna called out in greeting as they stepped onto an immaculate lawn and neared their children. A woman she recognised stood by them: Vic’s wife. “Hello, Mrs Farnsworth.”

“Hello. Call me Cynthia, please,” she politely begged. “I’ve just been spending some time with your charming children.” She would have said more but she spotted the state of John as he appeared behind Donna. “What on earth has happened to you? Are you alright? I do hope it isn’t due to your search for dear Pixie.” 

“Hello,” he cheerily replied. “No, I had a bit of a run in with a bush.”

“More like a fall in,” Donna interrupted. 

“Okay, a dispute of some kind with some foliage on the way back from looking for Pixie,” he amended. “Is she alright?”

“She is loving the attention and seems fine now,” Cynthia gushed, “thanks to the efforts of your brave son.” 

“What did…?” John began to ask, when his eyes took in the little white dog nestled on Jamie’s lap, the proud grin on his face, and the grimy state of his once pristine shirt. “Jamie! That shirt was brand-new on this morning,” he complained. 

“Sorry Dad, but I had to dig Pixie out of a rabbit hole, or she would have died,” Jamie explained, giving the dog a fond stroke. 

“I’m beyond grateful for his quick thinking which certainly saved my precious baby,” Cynthia defended him. “He and young Jenny here worked tirelessly to get her out. Please let me replace their ruined clothing.” 

“Don’t worry,” Donna consoled the woman’s fretting. “Nothing more than a decent soak and a proper wash should fix it.” The smudges of dirt on Jenny could soon be dealt with but the sorry state of Jamie's shirt might be another matter unless John was willing to bleach it. “Isn’t that right, John?”

“Well… erm…,” he floundered to find the words to express his feelings. “Probably. I’d better find Martha and then we can head for home and get you cleaned up properly.” 

“But…,” Jamie went to argue. However, Jenny threw him a cautionary look. “Yes, Dad. She went to get us a drink.”

“Ah yes, good idea,” he said, nodding to himself. “Would anyone else like some refreshment while I’m there?”

“Not for me, thanks. I’d better carry on with my duties and will collect Pixie in a moment or two,” Cynthia replied, drifting gradually away to talk to someone else. 

“I’ll have the same as you,” Donna informed him. “I could do with some refreshing.”

“Er…” He floundered for a moment, not sure how to take that, before finding his voice again. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Well?” Jenny eagerly leaned forward to ask as soon as she thought he was out of earshot. “How did the search really go? Anything of interest happen that you want to tell us?”

Retaking her previous seat, Donna answered, “Not really. We weren’t as clever as you two in finding Pixie here.” She leaned across to stroke the dog before cautiously adding, “But we did get the chance to talk.”

“And?” Jenny encouraged. 

“And what?” Donna wondered. “Nothing else although we agreed to keep our truce.”

Jenny eyed her in disbelief. “You’re lying. There’s more to it.”

“Why would you think that?” Donna demanded. 

Unable to keep quiet any longer, Jamie observed, “It might be because your lipstick looks a lot different now to when we began the search.”

“You wore half of it off when we ate lunch,” Jenny clarified when her mother’s questioning stare was upon her. “You’ve put more on, for some reason, like… say, kissing a certain handsome co-worker?” 

“I did not…,” Donna began to deny. “I would never… We didn’t…” Under their continued disbelief, she caved. “Alright, we did.” Two bright grins of triumph hit her immediately. “But I never said he was handsome.” 

“Then what does ‘too good-looking for his own good’ mean?” Jenny teased, to Jamie’s amusement. “Come on, Mum. Share the goss'.”

It didn’t help her wits to know her cheeks were flaming red. “I don’t think I should until Martha has been informed of his change of heart.”

“Oh, as if she cared in the first place,” Jenny grouched. “Tell her, Jamie.”

“They barely spoke to each other in the car, and I’m sure she came to be seen and flirt with that tech guy,” he commented. “What was his name?”

“Tom,” Jenny supplied. “And I can’t say I blame her. He’s gorgeous. No offence to your dad, by the way, but Tom is a right nosh.”

“Jenny!” Donna exclaimed in shock. When had her daughter become such an ogler of men? “She could have at least dumped John first.”

“I think she’s doing that right this second,” Jenny observed. “Anyway, can we go home soon too? I can’t wait to get out of this stuffy outfit.”

“Yes. Bath for you as soon as we get home, and I’d put that dress into soak. Now where’s my drink?” She got up to go investigate. 

Behind her back, Jenny shared a conspiratorial smile with Jamie. 

“We have a winner,” he quietly declared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** for those who don't like smut, that is the end of my AU little tale. However, if you don't mind the rating going up, the next chapter will be the DVD extra I wrote.


	11. DVD Extra Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** for those who don't like smut, my little AU tale has already ended.  
> However, if you don't mind the rating going up, this and the next chapter will be the DVD extra I wrote, so please continue reading.

He hadn’t been in the design office very long when the phone rang. The ID was for the CEO and John nervously answered it, wondering if the final verdict on the PA position was being announced. 

The voice on the other end was rather abrupt. “John, can I have a quick word?”

“Sure Vic. What’s the problem?” he tried to cheerily ask.

“You’ll soon find out,” was the terse reply. “Get up here right away.”

That did not sound good at all. “Derek, I’m just popping upstairs for a moment to see Vic,” he called out to his boss. “Won’t be long.” He tried to smile when Derek wished him luck, but something made him extremely wary.

He was greeted by a frowning Vic. “Ah, there you are. Sit yourself down.” Vic carried on looking stern as he picked up a remote control. “A video has shown up,” he began to explain. “Taken in my garden, by one of our motion sensor cameras during the party yesterday afternoon. And I’d like you to see it.”

“Okay,” John cautiously replied, and readied himself to see someone make a faux pass.

The blurry black and white video clip began, not showing much beyond dark shadowy figures moving vertically, but the audio recording made it blatantly clear what the two people featured were doing. Judging by the heavy breathing, grunts and groans of both effort and satisfaction, they were having sex. Up against a wall. Inside the grounds of the house. Or more particularly, according to the camera label, inside the summerhouse.

It could have been absolutely anybody and John would have sworn that, but the nearer figure to the camera strained out, “I’m coming.”

The reply was a woman’s voice but indistinguishable beyond that. 

He closed his eyes as the memory of that moment surged through his system, reminding him how it had felt to devour her lips as he’d pumped into her body. The feel of her warmth surrounding him, her soft skin, her legs wrapped around his hips whilst her hands on his back urged him onwards toward completion. 

How had he even resisted the idea of being with her? It truly beggared belief how long he had waited. Lust and desire had blinded him against all reason once they’d started. It had only been her modesty that had forced him to break into the summerhouse and gained a taste of paradise. 

A quiet, private place away from everyone else had been the perfect venue to taste her magnificence. It was all he could think of once he’d taken the steps to kiss her when no one was looking. It had been no time at all before clothing was shoved out of the way to allow unbridled passion to overtake them. A wonderful, sensual hurtle towards a life-threatening orgasm. 

John paled, the ready excuse on his lips dying before it had the chance to be said in his defence. 

Vic turned off the video and icily enquired, “Why were you having sex in my wife’s summerhouse? Who was with you? Was it Martha Jones?”

“No, it wasn’t Martha,” he gasped, not knowing how to defend himself, but at least he could spare her this shame. “It was a mad moment. You know how it is. Just a woman I met. It meant nothing. I promise it will never happen again.”

“Too right it won’t happen again,” Vic sneered. “You’ll never enter my house again. In fact, you can forget the promotion you were earmarked for. There are other candidates who are better than you.”

“Other candidates?” John queried. “I thought there was only the one.”

“The wife’s nephew is looking for a position,” Vic reluctantly revealed. “You think I’d only seriously consider you? After breaking my trust like this. That’s right, I want you to go clear your desk and get out of my company.” 

“But…”

“I said get out!” Vic sneered. “You have thirty minutes before I have you escorted from the building.” 

With his cheeks blazing red, John ran from the CEOs office on shaky legs, towards his sanctuary in the design department.

“John?” Donna called out after him as he sped by her office door. “Are you alright?”

There was no answer, so she got up from her desk and followed him. She found him in his office clutching at his hair, in the midst of a full panic attack. 

“What’s happened?” she softly asked. 

To her dismay, his eyes filled up with tears. “I’ve just been sacked. Oh my God. Sacked! Me. I never thought I’d do anything to be fired on the spot for. What do I do now? Tell me, Donna.”

“Sacked? Why?” she gasped in shock. “You, of all people. What on earth did you do wrong?”

He reached out to desperately clutch her arms to steady himself. “Vic has a video of us. Someone set up one of those motion cameras in his summerhouse. They have us on film,” he stressed. 

“No,” she denied for a moment. “Oh my God. Oh. My. God. They have footage of us. Doing…?”

“Yes,” he confirmed as the look of horror on her face deepened. “But you can’t see our faces. It’s all blurred, fortunately. You can hear us though. Loud and clear. There’s no doubt it’s us.”

“What are we going to do?” she wailed. 

“It's alright,” he assured, pulling her into his arms to embrace. “They don’t know it was you,” he whispered. “At least you’re safe. I kept your name out of it.”

“You took the blame?” she questioned, pulling back far enough to look into his eyes. “But you’ll lose everything. You idiot. I can’t let you do that. You’re innocent of a dismissible crime, especially as it didn’t happen at work.” 

“No. It’s a social offence, not a work one,” he agreed. 

Anger suddenly and blissfully occurred in her. “And what the hell were they doing putting a camera in the garden to film guests without their knowledge or consent? Highly illegal. We could sue the backside off him.” 

They stared at each other, contemplating this new information and perspective. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yes. Let’s go get him.”

After quickly informing Margery and Derek they were being sent home for the rest of the day, Donna and John left the confines of the office block. Shutting the huge glass door behind them seemed rather final, so they took a deep breath as they entered the outside world.

“Flipping heck!” she exclaimed.

He answered with a nervous giggle. “That went much better than I thought it would,” he noted.

“To be honest, I’m amazed we’ve still got our jobs after that,” she agreed, thumbing towards the situation they’d just left involving the CEO. 

“Unbelievable,” he gasped. 

“With a pay rise too,” she added. “Never thought that’d happen when I went for him.” She paused for a beat or two. “Shame about his nephew getting the PA job instead of us but I can live with that.”

“Especially as we can avoid any embarrassing reminders about him seeing us being… well, together. Dodged a bullet there, really. Which rather leaves us facing the business about that video,” he stammered, “the sex video. We still need to talk through what happened.”

“Is there anything to talk about?” she wondered. “We sort of pounced on each other, mediocre sex happened and then we didn’t speak to each other until we saw each other today.” She shook her head in disgust. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.”

“That’s okay,” he allowed as the word ‘mediocre’ clanged in his head. “I haven’t exactly been talkative or approachable. I didn’t even tell you Martha agreed things weren’t going well between us. We had a talk when I dropped her off last night. Anyway. Something more important happened, between you and me, and I think we’re adult enough to discuss it over a coffee. Where shall we go?”

“I can’t afford to splash out on fancy drinks,” she reluctantly confessed, looking away. 

“Then come back to mine,” he suggested. 

Her head snapped back round to regard him. “Why, are you inviting me in for a coffee, John?” she teased.

“I rather think I am,” he confirmed with a grin. Holding out his hand in invitation, he requested, “Come with me.”

It didn’t take them too long to walk the relatively short distance to his home, chatting amiably about their children as they walked. Things took a deeper meaning as soon as they stepped into his two-bedroom house, notching up their awkwardness. 

Thankfully, hastily clearing away unwashed crockery and cleaning worktops as the kettle boiled helped push along the conversation. In no time at all they were sat with their mugs of coffee on his settee, cautiously facing each other.

It was Donna took the bull by the horns, as it were. “So…. What did you want to tell me about this porno video Vic took of us?”

“Don’t do that,” he quietly begged. “Don’t pretend it meant nothing to you when it obviously did.”

“I make jokes,” she stated. “It’s a defence mechanism, as you are well aware.”

“Yes,” he agreed, setting down his mug to take hold of her nearest hand, “but it doesn’t mean you are not allowed to be hurt by this. Because I know you are, and I am deeply sorry for causing it.”

She snorted her scorn. “It takes two to tango,” she reminded him. “There were two of us unknowingly featured in that video. You got hurt as well.”

“It was also my fault,” he insisted. “If I hadn’t been so blinded by lust, I would never have forced you into that situation.”

“Do you honestly think I wouldn’t have fought you off if I hadn’t wanted to be taken up against the wall?”

“It was a glorified shed wall. Our boss’s summerhouse, with our co-workers in the garden. I should have been more restrained. Waited until we were home, or anywhere else.”

“Are you sure about that?” she wondered. “Would have been even more embarrassing in the school hall, say.”

“You’re joking again,” he warned.

“And you’re being a prat,” she countered. “It happened. We can’t stop it now. We fancied each other, we shagged, we went home.”

“We also almost got the sack,” he added. “Had actually been fired until we virtually blackmailed him into keeping us. You can’t brush it under the carpet so easily.” He took an encouraging gulp of his coffee before risking continuing. “There’s this attraction between us, you must admit. Or has it gone away for you?” 

It was his fearful expression that finally made her admit, “No, it hasn’t gone away. I still like you.”

“Donna!” he protested. “We have gone beyond liking each other. Unless you strip off your clothing for every single person you happen to like.”

“It was the bottom half, not all of it,” she denied.

“The important bit,” he stressed. “The bit that allowed us to erm… to… you know. Come together.”

“Except I didn’t come,” she remarked. 

His cheeks immediately flushed a bright red. “Sorry. That was selfish and unforgivable of me. I should have been more attentive.”

“There wasn’t exactly time to do anything else,” she comforted him. “We didn’t know if anyone was going to burst in and search the place for Pixie.”

“Thank God there wasn’t,” he proclaimed. “How embarrassing would that have been?”

“Very,” she agreed. And glanced down at their joined hands. Was this what she wanted? To merely talk through it, or did she want to explore their relationship further? “So… what do we do now?” she near whispered. 

He took the mug she’d been cradling from her hands, set it down, and drew her closer. “How about we go back to the beginning? Not the very beginning, obviously, because that involved a lot of arguing, but from when we first kissed in the woods.”

“Do you have a large garden available?” she pondered, smiling as he grinned with delight.

“No, but I do have a bedroom, with a bed. With recently cleaned sheets put on it, before you ask.”

“Always a worry,” she noted for his benefit. “Okay, tell me what you were going to say.”


	12. DVD Extra Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I'm a bit rusty at writing sex scenes, so I appreciate your patience.

Where should he start, John wondered. Blurting out some love declaration would obviously be too much, but he wanted to say enough to stop Donna walking away from him. Something honest to start with. 

Giving her body a squeeze, he tried to begin. “I was wrong and I’m so sorry about how I treated you. The fact is…” He anxiously rubbed the back of his neck as meaningful words seemed to jump out of his grasp. “I refused to accept I was attracted to you and behaved like a complete dick.”

“Can’t deny that bit,” she agreed. “Then again, I was just as nasty back.”

“Yes, but you weren’t denying your true feelings like I was,” he insisted. “You’re different to who I thought I was attracted to. Normally, I go after pretty petite blondes.”

Blondes, eh? How unusual, she thought. Not. “Like most of the male population. That’s hardly a huge surprise.”

He tried another tactic to convince her he’d been wrong. “Do most men get snarky whenever they see you?”

“Well, I had noticed you were never pleased to see me. Especially once the lead PA job vacancy came up.” 

“Anyway,” he continued, accepting the truth of her word, “it was unforgivable of me to take it out on you and you’ve been brilliant about everything that has happened since. Absolutely wonderful. What with Jamie having his anxiety attacks about school, offering me somebody else’s wedding cake, not bludgeoning me over Martha, and the whole summerhouse business.” 

“We had sex,” she bluntly stated. “You’re allowed to say it like it is.”

“But I don’t want to. It was too…,” he floundered as he fought for the right words. “I was like an animal on heat when I should have been more considerate.” 

Yes, he’d been like a man possessed, she remembered. Fervently kissing had quickly led to his hands up her thighs, hiking the material of her dress to bunch at her waist while he aimed for her knickers. It had taken all her efforts to distract him enough to get out of public view and into the cover of the summerhouse. Although it had been amusing to see him almost break the door open with his trousers trying to sail down his legs. Passion had soon appeared again, though, as they avoided being injured on a large lawnmower. Like you do. 

Seconds later he had pushed all the last remnants of their underwear out of the way and taken her body in some rather delicious movements. The bruising from his fingers on her bum might take a while to go away, but how else was she supposed to ride him in such an erect position? Pun intended. 

“A bit like an animal, yes, although you must admit it was also kind of hot, in its own way,” she remarked. “Well, right up until I had my back wedged against a web-infested shed wall, I suppose. You certainly worked your magic on me by going all caveman. All that rampant fumbling, as though there were no consequences.” 

“Consequences,” he echoed in horror. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“It’s okay,” she consoled him with gentle touches on his face. “I found a late opening pharmacy on the way home. Lied to Jenny, saying was buying headache tablets, but it’s been dealt with.”

He gulped nervously before admitting, “I did virtually the same yesterday, except for buying condoms rather than…” His words faded away.

“Flipping heck, you really are out of practice with all this,” she fondly noted. “You’ll soon learn to talk about sexual matters again. So, you have the doings, me here in your living room, and bags of time before I have to go home.” 

Drawing in a deep breath, he managed to huskily reveal, “I want you. In any way you are willing to let me into your life. I don’t want to deny it anymore.” When she raised a quizzical eyebrow, encouraging him to get to the point, he tacked on, “Right this minute, I want to kiss you.”

“That can be arranged. I’m ready.” She eased nearer and asked, “Are you?”

“So bloody ready,” he sighed and closed the distance between them.

This time he began slowly, placing small, tender kisses upon her lips as though trying to draw her out not the sunlight. When she returned them with presses of full lips, he teased her mouth open with his tongue. Meeting and gliding tongues soon had him hard and desperate, but still he kept things calm and gradually building towards passion for as long as he could. But a man has needs and soon desire was the overriding emotion for the woman in his arms. 

She gave a squeak as he unexpectedly tipped them sideways to lie on the settee whilst still sharing kisses. Pulled her down on top of him. Skirt pushed up, shirt tails pulled out soon followed, which also meant undoing his trouser belt. Opened buttons and unclipped her bra, releasing her assets into his hands. 

A bit uncomfortable, she thought when her bra nearly throttled her. As his hot mouth found a breast to feast on, she meaningfully asked, “Didn’t you mention you have a bed somewhere?” 

“Oh yes,” he agreed with newfound delight and dragged them up into a standing position. Using his best suave voice, he invited, “Shall we go and get more comfortable?” 

With relief, she answered, “I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”

His eagerness to lead her up the stairs made her giggle. 

Picking up speed, he huffed into her face, breathless with the effort. With one final jerk, accompanied by a yell that was almost painful to hear, he collapsed down onto her before rolling to the side. “Won’t be a minute,” he gasped, “just going to get rid of this.” 

The ‘this’ was the now full condom he had used, and he took the opportunity to wash himself in the bathroom at the same time. 

The problem with him doing that was it left a naked Donna laying in his bed with the usual post-sexual thoughts in her head. She had been promised a better conclusion this time, but he'd gone off like a pre-shaken can of Coke. Not much to satisfy the onlooker if you merely get a sip, as it were. Still, it proved her point about rarely offering to go all the way instead of no further than a hand job. It just wasn’t worth the bother, or the risk. 

Jenny’s father, Steve, had been the one to hammer that point home. Back when she had known him, he had used the ‘I might be dead soon’ line to get her to have full sex. It had unfortunately become true when he got killed during his next tour of duty in Afghanistan. Whereas Lance, her late fiancé, had solidified it as unnecessary in her mind, since he required very little where she personally was involved. Especially if there was football on the telly. A hand-puppet or that new-fangled idea of a flesh torch would have sufficed.

Chiding herself for wanting more, she climbed out of the bed and began to hunt her underwear down, to put on while she waited for the bathroom to become free. Once she had washed after peeing, she would extract herself as quickly and painlessly as possible from John’s house and then go home. 

She had just finished doing up the clasp on her bra when John appeared, hugging a towel to conceal his nakedness, in the bedroom doorway. “You’re getting dressed,” he accused in hurt tones. His plan had been to go back and snuggle. “Aren’t you staying?”

With a nonchalant wave of her hand, she deliberately kept her voice as equally unemotional as possible. “I thought it best if I went home.”

His bottom lip trembled for a second and he bit down on it to stop. “Why?!”

“Because this is the bit where you ask me if I want tea before I go,” she patiently explained. “When I say yes, you then tell me to make you a cup as well, and to not be too long about it as there’s a match on the telly soon. To avoid all that bother, I’m going home now. Did you see where my blouse went?” Averting her eyes to look for her clothing meant that she didn’t have to confront the hurt expression on his face or his pleading large eyes. It also stopped her from rushing over and attempting to kiss it all better. 

“No,” he feebly answered, reeling from this new development. “Please Donna. Tell me what I’ve done wrong.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” she assured him, letting him grasp her upper arms to keep her in place. “I’m wrong for rushing you into this situation. I can tell you feel guilty and upset.”

“But I want you,” he quietly stressed. “Us. To make a go of things. Something has happened to turn you away and I don’t understand what.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted despite the tears in her eyes. 

“Did I hurt you? Was I too rough? Am I repulsive? Or just a terrible kisser?” he pondered every scenario that occurred to him. “Please tell me so that I can make you happy.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “You want to make me happy?”

“Of course I do,” he crooned, giving in to the impulse to kiss her lips, keeping it brief, just in case. 

“After we’ve had sex?” she tried to clarify.

“After. Before. During. Instead of,” he confirmed. “All the time, if possible, although I know that’s not logical but nevertheless, I want to. Make you happy, not the sex bit, not continuously. Don’t think I’m up to it.” He gave her a self-deprecating but cheeky smirk. 

Love for him swelled in her heart. “Where were you thinking of starting?”

“I was thinking of here,” he murmured, drawing her into a sensual kiss. “Do you have any notes? I bet you do.”

“I have one or two things I need to go over with you,” she agreed, melting into his embrace.

It was almost four o’clock by the time Jamie let himself into the house and threw off his school bag. Moments later he noticed the steady THUD THUD THUD of some furniture moving upstairs. 

“Dad?” he called out, but his question was drowned out by the loud moan coming from the bedroom above. 

Was his dad home early, or was it a burglar? It could be an assailant attacking his dad. 

He found a broom in the kitchen to arm himself with, just in case, and began to gingerly climb the stairs. There was still the sound of mumbling when he reached the top, and turned to head for his dad’s bedroom door, with the plan to open it slowly and attack the intruder within. 

Thankfully, the bedroom door was very slightly ajar, so the new plan was to use the broom to quietly push the door open a couple of inches. It would be just enough to assess the situation, but as he did so, the wardrobe mirror showed bare legs beneath a male bottom moving in short jerks, and Jamie threw his palm over his mouth to hold in his surprise. 

It was his dad! His dad was in the bed, partially beneath the covers. Not only was he naked but he was fervently kissing a woman. In his shock, it took Jamie a few more seconds to recognise her as Donna. 

Oh!

Using the broom to pull the door almost to again, Jamie crept down the stairs as quietly as he could. He quickly replaced the broom back in its cupboard, and then allowed himself a relieved grin. 

No burglar to battle with. Only his dad’s marauding backside. And if his dad was dating someone, he’d rather it was Donna than anyone else. Yes, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

With that in mind, he decided to tell someone. Picking up his phone, he dialled Jenny’s number. 

She broke from her enthralling conversation with Amy and Mel about the eyelashes of their latest crush, Rory, to answer the call. “Hello Jamie. What’s the problem?”

“No problem,” he assured her. “I thought I’d just let you know that your mum might be home late.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” she wondered.

“Her and Dad are going at it like rabbits upstairs,” he revealed. “They must have been up there all day.”

“Ew!” she exclaimed in disgust. “Old people are so gross!”

“I know,” he agreed. “There’s no way I want to see that again.”

“Hmm. Is there any way we can use this to our advantage? You know, bribe a new games console out of them or something? They’ll want to keep us quiet from now on.” 

“Probably. I’m not sure what happens now,” he admitted. 

“Chanice said her mum’s boyfriend bought her all sorts of good stuff to keep out of the way,” she commented. “Is your dad rich?”

“Not really,” he answered. “Just sort of normal.”

“Still better off than us if you’ve got a house,” she reasoned. “Okay. Give me time to think and I’ll get back to you.” Then as an afterthought, she added, “But whatever you do, you’d better be nice to my mum!”

“Wouldn’t dream of being horrible,” he assured her. “Right then. See you tomorrow. Bye!”

“Is that you Jamie?” was called down from above.

“Yes, Dad!” he yelled back. “You not feeling well?”

“No, not that. Just fancied having a lie down. That’s all,” John cagily replied. “Put the kettle on and I’ll get dressed.” His head appeared at the top of the staircase; his body wrapped in a sheet. “When I come down, there’s something important I need to tell you. Something good. Right. Clothes. Won’t be a mo’.” Then he disappeared. 

Chuckling to himself, Jamie was almost tempted to video this speech of his dad’s.

  
artwork by [dreamerbee](https://dreamerbee.tumblr.com/post/629285165904150528/hey-tumblr-long-time-no-draw-these-two-but)


End file.
